A young bear. Lost its way. Failed in the traditions of other bears. Lost its way.
I found him. Forty pounds. Not too big. Still growing. Needed to nurture him. He already was damaged. Hurt by life’s woe’s. Not sure his purpose. Not knowing the satisfaction of a full day surrounded in peace.
A giant bowl of milk. Scrambled eggs. More food than he had had.
My property enabled him to replenish. I wanted him to have a safe spot for at least a month to get through the winter. One month of proper nourishment was all he needed. All I could provide really.
He gained the weight. Twenty, thirty pounds. I chased him off. Took away his room and board. Made him succeed on his own.
He met back up with family, I found out later. An awkward bear, but not by much.
I remember when I failed big time. Failed on myself. Wronged myself. Who knew disaster could come crashing down so hard on one individual.
There is no nourishment when you’ve failed yourself. There is no course of action to mend those wounds. Just left for dead in wounded agony from failure.
You can have your successes. Keep your rewards. Wrong as many people as you have to to make yourself feel accomplished. We know what your gains are all about. But you will never know what it’s like to try your best. To have the world fall apart enough for you to crumble on a mountainside, tumbling along the jagged rocks, bruising every part of your mind, body and confidence, just to stand up and say, ‘well, at least I can warn the others.’ At least they won’t come close to dying in the same way.
Who can help you up? Those soft hands pulling you up will feel more pain through this body than they’re ready for.
Guess the fall shows how much we climbed. Gotta say, it’s pretty dark down here. Cold wind will keep me company.
You go chase your success though. We all know you don’t enjoy it down here.
Poetry
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